


against the world (you and i)

by poise



Series: the what if's [9]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Apocalyptic, Breaking and Entering, Drinking, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing at Midnight, M/M, Mentions of Blood, New Years Celebration, midnight shenanigans, not what it seems, renmin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22102069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poise/pseuds/poise
Summary: The days are limited, this much Jaemin knows.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Series: the what if's [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1378438
Comments: 7
Kudos: 53





	against the world (you and i)

**Author's Note:**

> this is so late but lets pretend it's still new years

“How about this one?” Jaemin knits his eyebrows together as his eyes skim through the words plastered at the front of the bottle. 

  
  


Renjun speaks in a hushed tone,  pupils darting back and forth towards the entrance. “I don’t care, just hurry up.” The smell of rotting flesh in the air makes his eyes water as they land on a flyer stuck to the floor, dirt covering half of the letters and blood smeared across it.  _ ‘Welcome to the Wellington Hotel! Home of the finest cuisines and luxurious stays.’  _ it read - written in big bold letters. A chill runs down his spine at the contrast between the pictures in the flyer and the now vacant hotel bar. 

  
  


“Loosen up a little,” Jaemin sets the champagne bottle - a  _ Charles Heidsieck Vintage Brut 2005 -  _ back on the shelf only to reach for a different bottle, dusty and green. “It’s the New Years, we’re not celebrating with cheap wine. Now,” he turns to Renjun with a smile. “Red or white?” 

  
  


He gets an exasperated sigh in return. “Red. Now come on.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The hotel lobby is as dead as the pile of bodies dragging against the pavement outside. The once white linoleum tiles are slick with dried blood and dark footprints. A grunt and a moan echoing off the walls is enough to make Renjun speed forward, Jaemin tailing close behind. 

  
  


“ _ Stairs _ .” Jaemin whispers, making Renjun halt in place. His eyes travel further past the reception desk to see a gray door, a symbol of a staircase above it. The grip on the swiss knife in his hand tightens as he treads lightly towards the door.

  
  


Pushing past it, they’re met with the faint metallic scent of blood. Renjun stares up, looking past all the floors. “What floor is the penthouse?” Jaemin scrunches his forehead in deep thought, “Uh...13th.” As if on cue, a loud groan echoes from one of the floors, followed by a series of grunts.

  
  


“Ah fuck.” Renjun silently groans, head tilting back in annoyance. He was already tired from all the walking but walking another 13 flights of stairs filled with the undead just waiting to pounce at you? Not exactly his ideal New Years celebration. He opens his eyes to shoot Jaemin a glare when he hears him snicker beside him.

  
  


“Come on, it’ll be worth it.” Jaemin is already walking up the first flight of stairs and Renjun unwillingly follows behind him. “I can’t believe you talked me into this, honestly fuck you.” 

  
  


Jaemin only hums back, one hand gripping tightly onto the wine and the other wrapped around his pocket knife. The first floor is void of any life (and the undead) as they trudge lightly with each step. They encounter the first undead on the third floor. Funny enough Renjun had warned Jaemin about the increasingly loud groaning which he brushes off due to the echoes of the walls in the stairwell. He’s mid sentence when one charges out of nowhere, arms flailing and eyes wild as it makes an attempt at grabbing Jaemin by the collar. Though caught off guard, he acts fast - ramming the knife in his hand into the side of it’s skull, an unpleasant squelching sound echoing off the walls. The wet liquid flowing out and running down the side of his sleeve makes him gag. 

  
  


They move forward with Renjun leading after that but not before he calls Jaemin  _ stupid _ under his breath (‘ _ I heard that.’ ‘Good’.) _

  
  


They breeze through the next few floors with ease, mild encounters with the infected but Renjun lifts his knife and Jaemin slashes by instinct. A rhythm they’re more than familiar with. Renjun is already panting by the time they’ve made it to the 13th floor, knots decorating his spine and he lets out a little whine when Jaemin nudges a sensitive spot on his back - an old sports injury he’s had years before the outbreak had occurred. It was odd to have a peace of the past engraved into you when the world was nothing short but death and decay but he supposes it has its perks. A reminder of the past whenever Jaemin’s hand slips past the hem of his shirt, fingers ghosting softly against the tender skin.

  
  


There's a flash of worry in Jaemin’s eyes but Renjun shoots him a reassuring look, straightening his back and letting the knots loose. Jaemin takes the initiative of checking the hallways before nudging Renjun forward out the door, now a hand on his shoulder instead. 

  
  


The hallway leading up to the penthouses was eerily silent and the white tiles were still clean to the touch. It was unsettling. Never did Renjun wish more to hear the faint groans and grunts in the distance than the deafening silence he’s being met with. 

  
  


“Which one is it?” He squints, walking past each entrance. 

  
  


“Um,” Jaemin fishes the key out of his pocket, turning it around. “237.”

  
  


Renjun lands right before the door. He presses an ear against it, hearing nothing but white noise. The key jingles against the hole when Jaemin unlocks the door, his other hand hovering over the Beretta 92 hanging off his hip. 

  
  


The door swings open slowly and Renjun steps in first, left hand gripping his swiss army knife and the other goes to switch off the safe button on his Beretta. The penthouse was huge - marble pillars, high ceilings, walls painted with hues of white and gold and a small hallway leading up to each room. A spiral staircase stood in the middle of the room, leading to a platform high enough to reach the ceiling. 

  
  


The place slightly reeks of rotten food and the mould growing off the edges of the walls. Jaemin peers into the kitchen and scrunches his nose when he met with the sight of rotten fruits sitting in a basket on the marble island. 

  
  


“Looks clear.” Renjun switches the safe button back on and slides his gun back into the holster.

  
  


“Smells like piss though.” Jaemin meets him back in the living room.

  
  


Renjun laughs - a breathy one - with his bottom lip caught in between his teeth. “Well good thing there’s a balcony then.” He goes to pull the curtains back, the sun setting on the horizon is bright enough to blind as he reaches for the door knob. 

  
  


“Renjun,  _ wait-”  _ The gush of wind blows on his face when he pushes the door back, only to fall backwards instantly when a heavy weight falls on top of him. 

  
  


Renjun widens his eyes at the being pressed against his chest, decayed hands making moves to claw at his neck, arms, face -  _ anything.  _ Whoever this is -  _ was -  _ had been here for a long time. The side of their face has now slumped down and a chunk of their cheek was missing, making the side of their gums visible from the outside. Renjun is faced with frantic eyes, teeth close enough and desperate to sink into his flesh. The fear that bubbles in his chest a second later is suffocating. 

  
  


Behind him, Jaemin lets out a noise from the back of his throat - panicked and alarmed. Until a thud echoes in the room and the weight on Renjun’s chest ceases to exist once Jaemin lunges the infected to the ground followed by the sound of a skull cracking against the spotless, white tiles. 

  
  


A choked, deep breath in feels like fire in Renjun’s lungs.

  
  


“Are you okay?” Jaemin goes to lift him off the floor by the arm, bloodied fingers tainting his hand.

  
  


“Hmm,” Renjun hums, fingers pulling at his own sleeves hurriedly. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” He gets a wary look instead. “Really. It’s just a few scratches don’t worry.”

  
  


Renjun clears his throat. “We should go check on the power and water though. It might still be working.” 

  
  


“You check on those and I’ll check upstairs?” Jaemin nods in the direction of the stairs leading to the platform. 

  
  


Renjun nods, feeling Jaemin’s hand slip off from under his touch. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He later learns the power unsurprisingly wasn’t working anymore, much to his annoyance. The water however was clean and working with the bathrooms big enough for the size of a bedroom. It was filled with exotic soaps and washes - expensive brands with names he can’t pronounce, the kind you’d see displayed in the bathroom at a socialite’s dinner party. Relief seeps through his bones when the cold water runs down his back, turning it murky and dark. Jaemin had suggested they showered together prior, something about saving water - another excuse he pulls out from under his sleeve and while Renjun was never one to turn down the offer, the sting on his forearm reminds him otherwise as he’s quick to jump in the shower. He comes out clean and dressed in a long sleeved sweater and loose pants. 

  
  


They find out that the platform at the top of the stairs holds a queen size bed, perfectly overlooking the view of the city through the high windows. And by the time Renjun gets out, the living area is already scattered in candles - bright shadows making up for the lack of electricity. He meets Jaemin plopped onto the bed when he makes his way up, sees that he’s showered and dressed. 

  
  


“I thought you had a New Years celebration plan,” Renjun plops down beside him. “Tired already old man?” He grins, lip caught between his teeth. Jaemin lifts his head up, a teasing smile playing at the edge of his lips. “I do. You just always take too long in the shower.” Renjun doesn’t suppress the small laugh escaping his lips when Jaemin reaches over to wrap an arm across his torso. 

  
  


They spend the remainder of the night on the balcony, hands dipping into cans and packets of food - the ones they’d both gotten from the supply run they had made from the last town. When it was close to midnight, Jaemin pulls out two wine glasses he’d found in one of the cabinets, scurrying back to the balcony with the wine bottle in his other hand. 

  
  


“Classy.” Renjun comments with a chuckle, tilting the glass once the bottle had been popped open. It pours in effortlessly and tastes like velvet on the tongue after a sip. 

  
  


10 minutes before midnight and their feet hangs freely off the edge of the balcony, their wine glass clutched in their hands. The view, though dark, was stunning with the skyscrapers and tall buildings looming over each other and the pungent smell of decaying bodies filling the night air goes unnoticed at this point. It gets easier to block out the smell after a while. The moon was still shining bright with it’s light bouncing off the edge of the wine glasses. 

  
  


Jaemin goes to wrap a hand around Renjun’s.

  
  


“Told you it was worth it.” Renjun snorts beside him, eyes reflecting those of half moons. He looks down to see the herd of infected wandering through the streets, a bitter taste appearing in his mouth but he’s quick to snap out of it. 

  
  


“Breaking into the city’s most expensive hotel and drinking wine off the balcony,” Renjun smiles and goes to take another sip, feeling the burn in his throat. “I guess it was a  _ little  _ worth it.” 

  
  


Jaemin smiles but doesn’t respond and the silence lingers in the air for a while. The wind breezing and carding through their hair.

  
  


Jaemin clears his throat. “I got something. For you.” The palm of his hand feels warm against Renjun’s, mildly starting to sweat and latter raises an eyebrow at him. Jaemin was never one to be nervous. His hand disappears into his pocket and he pulls out with a clenched fist and motions Renjun to flatten his palm. 

  
  


Something drops in his palm a second later, small and light. A ring. Renjun lets his eyes scan over the band in his palm. It was smooth, gold in color. It didn’t have much of a design to it, none except for the small star engraved right in the middle and a red ruby stone placed above it. It was beautiful and Renjun makes sure to tell him so. 

  
  


“Where’d you find this?” His eyes fleet over to Jaemin’s, catching him smiling down on him.

  
  


“The last town we passed. There was a jewelry store down the street and I snuck out while you were asleep.” Renjun sends him a wary look. “I was careful, don’t worry.” 

  
  


The band fits perfectly on his ring finger, gold complimenting his tanned skin. Renjun had always favored gold over silver anyways but he’s sure Jaemin had known that. He lets out a little chuckle, airy and light as his finger ghosts over the ring. “Did you know this is an engagement ring?”

  
  


He doesn’t expect the silence that follows after and Jaemin’s hesitant response. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I picked it.” 

  
  


There’s a look behind Jaemin’s eyes and for the first time, Renjun doesn’t attempt in deciphering it. He knows what it means. Jaemin speaks in actions, words layered with hidden meanings and after time Renjun grown accustomed to it. He doesn’t meet Jaemin’s eyes as he pulls the sleeves of his sweater lower. 

  
  


“I know things aren’t like how they are anymore. The world right now, isn’t the world we lived in back then. I know that.” Jaemin starts. “And normality is such a far stretch from anything we could afford right now. Staying alive is all we need to get through. But,” He gulps, eyes locking onto the ring placed on Renjun’s finger. “I don’t want to  _ just _ be alive. We can’t go back to living like we did in the past but we need to start somewhere. And I don’t want to wait until it's too late.” 

  
  


Jaemin goes to slip his fingers between Renjun’s, feeling the cold band against his finger. Renjun pales of a second, blinking but finally meets his eyes with a faint smile before Jaemin could even have the chance to wonder.

  
  


“Was that your proposal speech?” He asks and Jaemin chortles at the question.

  
  


“Maybe. Depends, was it convincing?”

  
  


Renjun goes to answer before his eyes land on Jaemin’s wrist watch - an old leather watch his father had gifted him - the short hand and the long one both pointing towards the 12 _._

  
  


He stretches an arm out to wrap his hand around Jaemin’s nape, tugging him close to press their lips together. Jaemin makes a noise that sounds from the back of his throat before kissing him back with a hand resting on Renjun’s waist. Their feet dangling off the edge and wine glasses sitting between their thighs are long forgotten. 

  
  


Renjun pulls away first when he feels his ears getting too hot.

  
  


“Happy New Years.” He says when he catches his breath. Jaemin flashes him a smile. One without hidden meanings and unspoken words. 

  
  


“Happy New Years.” 

  
  


He goes to pull Renjun close again, head now burying in the crook of his neck. Renjun wraps his arms around him by instinct, making the sleeves of his sweater fall below his wrist with Jaemin thankfully facing the other way.

  
  


Now Renjun was never a liar. He didn’t lie when Jaemin had asked him if the blue t-shirt - the one decorated with frills around the shoulder blades - had looked ugly on him (it did) nor did he lie when he had told Jaemin he had loved him for the first time. 

  
  


But this, the fresh wound peeking out from under his sleeve was a lie Renjun had been ready to bring to his grave. The wound - now adorned with hues of green and blue - has an indent of a bite mark. The result of the accident he had brushed off earlier this evening. 

  
  


It makes him wince.

  
  


The feeling of Jaemin’s warm, calming breath fanning over his collarbones matched with the sight of his own wrist, the blooming infection ready to spread and take over any second. The sting doesn’t compete with the bubbling guilt in his chest but Renjun shifts his gaze, pulling his sleeves past his fingers. 

  
  


If he had to die protecting Jaemin from the truth then so be it, he would be on his knees. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is a lot less happier than i make the tags and summary sound but i hope u enjoyed it even though it was a little dry.
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/813na)  
> [twt](https://mobile.twitter.com/rensfilms)


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